


Green

by frankinggerard



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Soulmate AU, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 03:26:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9415994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankinggerard/pseuds/frankinggerard
Summary: There was a color he could only hear in stories, a color he had relentlessly bedeviled his parents to describe every night before he slept, a color that he was destined to never see, until he had met ‘the one’.The salient shade of green was everything that Otabek had imagined. A deafening tranquil. Otabek sought solace in this foreign hue, until he caught himself staring.The eyes of a soldier. He swore he would never fail to remember in his lifetime, even as he unwillingly tore away from the eyes he would peer into for hours on end.It dawned upon Otabek that this prodigy was meant to be his soulmate. But something was wrong.





	1. The Eyes of a Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> Soulmate AU inspired by lecdoesnotmakepie on tumblr
> 
> Set in an alternate universe where most humans are born unable to see one particular color (the color of their soulmate's eyes), and are only able to see it only after looking into their soulmate's eyes.

_/ 5 years ago_ _/_

_I… I can’t do it. My legs can’t seem… to…_

Otabek grimaced, his face warping into an expression unimaginable, proportions he would have never dreamed of. But this was exactly what being in this class was like. The pain pulsating from his joints threatened to rip his left leg out of its socket. But he couldn’t give up yet.

 

Even if he gave it his all, he was aware that the height of his leg was nowhere near the other students in his class. And his progress was nowhere near theirs either.

 

Most, if not all of them were younger than he was, joining the junior division only at the age of 14, when ballet lessons would be futile. His body had developed past the point of being able to be flexibly manipulated at will, and definitely not at the pace of the junior division.

 

“Otabek, why are you so embarrassed?”

 

“I… I can’t do it.”

 

_______

 

 _Novice class_.

 

The gold-plated label on the wooden door was a grim reminder of Otabek’s incompetency. He was going to be cast aside, to a class with students half his age, where their lesson pace would suit Otabek’s progress to a tee.

 

“This is Otabek Altin, he will be joining your class today. He needs more assistance with the fundamentals, which I feel that this class would be able to provide. Until he is able to match up to the standards of my junior skaters, he shall remain here.”

 

The door was slammed shut behind him. The resonance of the noise riveted through the small room, fading steadily as Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 took over, along with the faint buzzing of the air-conditioner.

 

All eyes were fixated on the older boy. 

 

The pain searing through the strain in his left thigh still rendered the 14 year-old breathless.

 

Accepting his fate, he forced himself to look at his new classmates, not that it was of any use. Everyone was alone in this competitive world of skating, and Otabek could bet money that these students only knew their own names.

 

Any attempts to socialize would be frowned upon, an act of folly, foolishness. Friendships didn’t give an insurance for a gold medal, and there was no benefit for establishing relations of any sort. Emotional support came in the form of self-motivation, and desperation, in which skaters were perfectly capable of supplying themselves with.

 

Even supposed ‘friendships’ established here were contrived, full of toxicity and manipulation. They did nothing but gossip about other skaters, mocking their faults and envying their talents which they make no concrete effort to reach or work towards, except to complain and groan about.

 

A pair of chaste, white ballet shoes surfaced before Otabek. Slender calves and thighs which assumed the pose of the first arabesque with grace of a dove’s feather floating in the wind.

 

Otabek let out a small gasp, his built hinted that this person, was irrefutably younger than him. But his talent was prodigious, the form worthy of the junior class, how effortless it was for him, placed him above and beyond the senior league.

 

Otabek’s gaze drifted along the flawless arcs of his body, enthralled by how it was possible for a body to be carved, catered, made for skating.

 

There was envy, but even more pride. Otabek was proud of whoever he was, and Otabek was strangely glad that he could be in the same sport he was. He had witnessed perfection before his own eyes, and he hadn’t even seen his face yet.

 

_Wait, what?_

There was a color he could only hear in stories, a color he had relentlessly bedeviled his parents to describe every night before he slept, a color that he was destined to never see, until he had met ‘the one’.

 

Otabek had obstinately claimed that green was his favorite color, which led to mocking scoffs and disapproving sighs by everyone else who didn’t believe his words. Every other color he could see was strikingly hideous, and Otabek had only looked upon them with despise. He knew that the color, which always came in the form of a blurry dull mirage, would be the one he would love. If he could ever see it in his lifetime.

 

The salient shade of green was everything that Otabek had imagined. A deafening tranquil. Otabek sought solace in this foreign hue, until he caught himself staring.

 

The eyes of a soldier. He swore he would never fail to remember in his lifetime, even as he unwillingly tore away from the eyes he would peer into for hours on end.

 

It dawned upon Otabek that this prodigy was meant to be his soulmate. But something was wrong. Everyone was meant to be able to see their colors of their soulmate’s eyes after meeting them, but the prodigy did not have any reaction to the new color he was supposed to be able to see now.

 

_Maybe there was nothing brown around here?_

 

Otabek inwardly groaned at his stupidity, the barres that lined the room, the glazed floor, the suffocating ceiling that imprisoned these skaters in a ceaseless cycle of ecarte devants. They were all brown. But the frozen gaze didn’t melt like a usual person would, not even a twitch.

 

“Otabek, you may join the line, behind Yuri.”

 

Yuri shifted his scrutiny, his eyes meeting Otabek’s once again.

 

_I am Yuri._

 

They spoke, a thousand, no, a million words. Yuri’s whole story was laid bare for all; it was only a matter of who stopped to venture beyond that tough façade, those who dared to stare in the windows to Yuri’s soul.

 

“From the top.” Otabek’s new coach clapped curtly, as Otabek scattered in line, nesting a death grip on the barres next to him in anxiety.

 

Otabek was perturbed by his newfound discovery, that the blonde boy before him was his soulmate. But he was even more distressed that Yuri hadn’t had the slightest hint towards Otabek, being able to see a new color should have at least been somewhat of a revelation, a surprise.

 

Otabek would rather Yuri be disgusted that his soulmate was an incompetent individual, flung into the novice class due to his lack of skill, paling in comparison to his own raw talent and aptitude.

 

At least something.

 

Otabek shook off the thought, perhaps there was something wrong, a mistake. That his vision had tricked him, that this soulmate gibberish was nothing more than a faulted flaw of the human existence.

 

Maybe Yuri was never meant to be his soulmate. Maybe his eyes had been wrong.

 

Otabek stole a furtive glance out the window. Even if Yuri and him was never meant to be, at least he could thank him for one thing.

 

Trees now could be appreciated in their full radiance, no longer just rough brown barks with that same blurry mirage every single time Otabek passed one by.

 

He noticed how how there were multiple shades of green. The different layers of leaves, some blessed by the kiss of sunlight, tinted with a hint of bright yellow, others destined to be sheltered and overcast by other leaves, inheriting a darker shade.

 

People were like leaves. People like him, people who had to climb and claw their way to the top, only to realize it was in vain, that they were destined to stay at the bottom.

 

People like Yuri, always superior, always blessed with sunlight and luster in their lives, their fates intertwined with success and greatness, that was exactly what Otabek was not.

 

_I have fewer resources, and the other talent is overwhelming._

But with this newfound vision, he could see a particular branch. A branch that had both the kiss of sunlight and the shade of the overcast, one particular branch stretching, and growing from the bottom towards the sunlight, one leaf belonging on that branch basking in the exuberance of the sun.

 

_If I can’t demonstrate something that they can’t do, I’ll never win._

_I will be that leaf._


	2. I Have to Tell Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, did you know Yuri Plisetsky has a problem with his vision?”

It was the last day of Yakov’s summer camp, in which Otabek had never made it to the junior class. After serious contemplation, he had the realization that ballet was never going to be able to help him in his skating career, ever.

 

Yakov had mandatory ballet classes for the camp participants, most probably because his wife, Lilia Baranovskaya, was the prima ballerina of the Bolshoi Ballet. Yakov was probably baited into conducting ballet lessons by his wife, whom Otabek never liked anyway.

 

Otabek never understood the use of ballet lessons. If skating was the same as ballet, they would have called skating Ice Ballet. Countless number of skaters had found their own style, in vast dissonance from the grace and beauty of ballet, and Otabek needed to find his own.

 

Throughout the course of the camp, Otabek found himself caring less and less about the soulmate issue, that perhaps it was a gigantic hoax and his eyes had made a mistake. Just like how bodies could screw up and contract illnesses, his eyes could do the same.

 

“Hey, did you know Yuri Plisetsky has a problem with his vision?”

 

Otabek’s ears perked up instantaneously.

 

“Yeah I heard about it from a junior too, he apparently can’t see multiple colors, including the color of his soulmate’s eyes, and even if he ever meets his soulmate, that color wouldn’t surface before him. So technically he wouldn’t ever know that he has met his soulmate. It’s pretty sad, huh?”

 

“Maybe that’s why he’s so grouchy all the time!” Laughter boomed through the hallway, the appalling sound enough to make Otabek nauseate.

 

Otabek’s grip on his towel tightened as he grimaced. Trembling slightly, he heaved, trying to nullify the anger brewing from the pit of his stomach. He continued to pack his clothing and belongings, before he realized what they meant.

 

_Yuri doesn’t know when he has seen his soulmate._

Otabek’s eyes widened.

 

_I have to tell him…_

Otabek leapt out of his bed and stumbled on the floor, fumbling with the nearest two shoes he could find. Scampering towards Yuri’s door, he realized that his shoes were mismatched, one brown and one green. He had only hoped that Yuri wouldn’t notice it.

 

\------

 

The door to Yuri’s room appeared taller, larger, and more imposing than any room door that he had ever seen.

 

He lifted his right hand. Then he stopped short.

 

_What would I even say to him?_

His slackened hand curled up into a fist. He grimaced, a bad habit of late.

 

“Come on Yuratchka, let’s go.” A voice reverberated.

 

Otabek’s reflexes kicked in as he darted into the nearest empty room he could find.

 

The door creaked open. A man with a brown cloth cap and a two toned mustache strode out of the door, with Yuri in tow.

 

Otabek continued to stare onwards at the pair. He couldn’t possibly tell Yuri in this situation, it would have been even more awkward with his grandfather around.

 

_But if I don’t tell him now... when can I ever see him again?_

“Yuri!”

 

The blonde boy turned backwards, his alluring green eyes putting Otabek into a trance once again. There was a moment of silence as Otabek began to sweat, he was tongue-tied.

 

With each passing second that Yuri expectantly waited for Otabek to say something, he didn’t blink. His piercing gaze forced Otabek to spurt out 4 measly words.

 

“I…I’ll see you again.” Otabek’s heart pounded painfully against his chest, threatening to burst with embarrassment as his face flushed. He grimaced yet again.

Yuri raised his thumb as a small smile crept onto his face.

 

Otabek found himself smiling too. The first time in a long while.


	3. So I Can See You Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3\. Yuri Plisetsky.
> 
> So I can see you again. 

_/ 8 months ago /_

 

 

“Here in St. Petersburg, Russia, rising star Yuri Plisetsky is finally gearing up in earnest to join the senior competition. Under Coach Yakov, the fifteen-year-old is about to join Viktor Nikiforov in ushering Russia into an era with two champions.”

 

_I’ve found you._

 

Otabek found himself beaming like a fool, nestling his head in his right palm, left finger tapping the table in a rhythmic pattern. Yuri Plisetsky’s green irises still possessed the fighting spirit he once saw five years ago. Otabek was thankful that time wasn’t strong enough to strip Yuri of his resilience. 

 

 _The eyes of a soldier._ The way Otabek adored it.

 

The camera lingered on, a scene of Yuri having a casual conversation with Viktor by the rink. Otabek took advantage of the opportunity to stare into his eyes once more, for they encompassed the most delicate color in the world, in Otabek’s opinion. 

 

They say that eyes were the windows to one’s soul, and Otabek believed it with all his heart. Ever since that camp, he hadn’t doubt that claim for a second. 

 

He swore he could see soldiers in platoons, marching onward in their gallant uniforms. In unison and with gusto, all hearts orchestrating their love, ever-ready to defend and protect what they valued the most, no matter what it took. 

 

That was exactly how Yuri Plisetsky was like. 

 

Otabek had forbid those eyes from slipping away from his memory. Every single time he had fallen from attempting a jump, every single time he had messed up his step sequence, every single time he had lost his balance during his combination spin. 

 

Many times he had lay flat on the ice, being on the very verge of surrendering to despair. 

 

 _What am I doing this for exactly?_ He would question. 

 

He would stare out the window of his skating rink. Often, he would see trees, the color of the leaves. The force that supplied the tenacity he needed to subsist in the cruel world of figure skating. 

 

He detested winters and autumns. The leaves would assume colors, grotesque shades of red, orange, yellow, then drowned out by the snow, falling off the branches completely. Even those thriving in the spring and summer weren't spared.

 

But it was exactly them, their willingness to be reborn as many times as necessary, that was exactly what differentiated them from the weak. Their dreams and their aspirations driving them to be the green they once were. 

 

Otabek wanted to be like that. And so, he did. 

 

He had plummeted to the bottom and picked himself up again, as many times as required, trying again and again. It was like the ballet studio years ago, enduring infinite cycles of repetition.

 

But it was different now. Otabek knew exactly what he was working towards, and that had made all the difference. 

 

Over the years he had found his own flair, one which didn't have the poise or finesse of a prima ballerina, but instead, one fuelled by sheer grit and resolve. There was to be no hesitation in his skating. 

 

This style had brought him further than he had thought, a Bronze at Worlds was a feat he wouldn't have dreamt of, but he did it. His determination was deemed one of his trademarks. He was made a national hero back in Kazakhstan. 

 

He would stop to ponder, a constant reminder of what he was working for. Self reflection was a paramount aspect of his training, sorting out his thoughts would tend to be beneficial as motivation, especially before a competition. 

 

He had made a list. 

 

  1. _My family._



 

_My father, my two brothers. My father had slogged his guts out in my early years in order to let me have ice skating lessons, such that he had gotten ill from fatigue. I have to support my brothers, and earn enough money for my father to be treated, I can’t let them down._

 

  1. _My country._



 

_When I was eligible for Worlds last season, our little known country could finally make a mark on the map. I was able to stand next to the living legend Viktor Nikiforov. I was deemed a national hero, who had brought glory to our country. Several of my countrymen had flown to the venue last year just to support me, waving our national flag in pride, they're also people who are counting on me._

 

  1. _Yuri Plisetsky._



 

_So I can see you again._


	4. We love you, Yuri!!  (=♡ ᆺ ♡=)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yuri+angels10 We love you, Yuri!! (=♡ ᆺ ♡=)
> 
> Yuri wasn't receptive of the love, evidently. Every square inch of his face debossed with pure horror, petrified by the mob of girls with nekomimi headbands and Yuri banners. 
> 
> Otabek tugged on his fingerless gloves and his matte black helmet. 
> 
> Time to rescue a damsel in distress.

"Otabek! Where are you going?" JJ's voice resonated across the hotel lobby, and within an instant all eyes were on Otabek. 

 

He didn't like attention. JJ's sickening words engendered his usual habit. 

 

He grimaced, then composed himself. 

 

Removing his shades, a form of courtesy he had established over the years, he contemplated the most suitable reply to show his disinterest in the Canadian skater.

 

"Out to eat." 

 

"Eating alone? You're still an odd one, huh? Want to join us for dinner?" 

 

"Thanks, but I'll pass."

 

Otabek couldn't care less about him. His only concern was the blonde he was arguing with; with an unmistakable voice he could identify a mile away. 

 

Yuri Plisetsky. 

 

Otabek had suspected that Yuri may have forgotten who he was over the course of the five years. 

 

"Huh? What's with you, asshole?"

 

And he was right. 

 

Otabek slid on his shades, grateful that he hadn't approached Yuri immediately when spotted him, he daren't imagine how it would've turned out, especially with JJ around. 

 

A loudmouth like him could've spread rumors capable of defaming even the American president. 

 

Otabek sauntered out the sliding doors, taking a deep breath of cold Barcelona. 

\------

 

Otabek scrolled through Instagram, a rare occurrence judging by how much he detested social media. 

 

But he knew that it was the best approach to find Yuri and talk to him, thanks to the Yuri's Angels. 

 

How melodramatic those fans were when it came to Yuri was surreal. They would be there, attending all competitions without fail. Somehow they would've been able to obtain information about his flight timings, his hotel name, his current location, everything. 

 

They were everywhere, it wasn't hard to believe that that had strategically planned outposts to track Yuri, with an established communication network to share information about his whereabouts. Because when one of them spots him, another hundred appear in a split second. 

 

It was rumored there was an application for him, specially for members of the fanclub, with a map and a tracking system. 

 

Otabek wouldn't want to be in that position. And he knew Yuri didn't like it either. 

 

He stopped short on a particular post. 

 

 ** _yuri+angels10_** _We love you, Yuri!!  (=_ _♡_ _ᆺ_ _♡_ _=)_

 

Yuri wasn't receptive of the love, evidently. Every square inch of his face debossed with pure horror, petrified by the mob of girls with nekomimi headbands and Yuri banners. 

 

Otabek tugged on his fingerless gloves and his matte black helmet. 

 

_Time to rescue a damsel in distress._


	5. Falling off, I mean.

"Yuri, get on." 

 

He wasn't hard to find. The geotagged post by Yuri's Angels led Otabek straight to the poor boy silently pleading for help. 

 

Yuri was half-crouching in one of the blind spots of the alleyway, assuming a defensive stance. Otabek fought back the urge to smirk, the strong warrior could grapple his way to a Junior Grand Prix Final Gold medal, but was reduced to a mere kitten when it came to a mob of fangirls. 

 

But Otabek had a feeling that Yuri was startled by him this time. A Harley-Davidson with a shady biker pulling into a derelict alleyway, trapping a 15-year-old boy with nowhere to run. 

 

If he was Yuri, he wouldn't have expected that either. 

 

"Huh? You're..." 

 

Yuri's eyes settled, with a tinge of hope lining his irises. Yuri was smart enough to know that the mysterious biker would be the only way out of his fix. 

 

"There's Yuratchka!" a piercing screech thwarted the tranquility of the alley.

 

"Huh? There's no way!" another followed. 

 

Otabek removed his shades. 

 

"It's Otabek Altin from Kazakhstan!" 

 

"Huh, what?" Yuri was dumbstruck, a reaction Otabek anticipated, but he knew Yuri had no better option.

 

"Are you coming or not?" 

 

A helmet matching Otabek's was tossed in his hands. 

 

_There's no more time._

 

The sounds of cameras clicking faded in the distance as the engine roared to life. 

__

 

The ride was quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. 

 

Otabek maneuvered his way around the area with ease, much to Yuri's surprise. He could wind down the narrowest of pathways, the most bizarre of junctions. 

 

There were only a few words exchanged. 

 

"Where are we going, Otabek?" 

 

"You'll find out." 

 

Yuri could never find himself trusting another person other than his grandfather. But there was an inexplicable connection that drew Yuri to Otabek. One that he couldn't put a finger on. 

 

He decided to trust his instincts anyway. 

 

Yuri used each bend as an excuse to cling tighter onto Otabek. 

 

"I'm scared of falling, okay? Falling off, I mean.”


	6. Chapter 6

"We're here." 

 

Yuri clambered off the bike, a little too tall for him. 

 

They treaded up a pathway lined with mosaic reptiles, which Yuri cringed at, he loathed every animal other than felines. 

 

There were stairways winding in every direction, which Yuri would've easily lost his way in. But Otabek knew what he was doing. That was one of the reasons why Yuri decided to trust him. 

 

"Where is this place?" Yuri breathed, grazing a finger against the carvings on the cold stone columns, feeling the rough bumps beneath his skin. 

 

"This is the Sala Hipóstila, or the Doric Temple." 

 

The silence ensued once more. 

\------- 

"This place is amazing." 

 

Yuri and Otabek were atop the Doric Temple, both took time to marvel at the Hänsel-and-Gretel gatehouses which adorned the landscape, especially more so for Yuri, having been there for the first time. 

 

"You know your way around these parts pretty well, don't you?" Yuri broke the silence.

 

"I've been here once. Most of the time I've spent on sightseeing and exploring the area around the Gothic Quarter. The place where I found you."

 

"Wait, I ran all the way to the Gothic Quarter?"

 

"Yuri, it's dangerous running around without knowing where you're going, you know?" 

 

"I guess I'm used to running around large areas and getting lost most of the time, even back in Russia. Yakov scolded me for hours on end." Yuri scowled. 

 

"Yeah, Moscow is confusing." 

 

"You've been to Russia?"

 

"Yeah. I've met you there before five years ago, at Yakov's summer camp."

 

"Really? I don't remember that!" 

 

Otabek abandoned his initial plans. Tossing and turning in bed the entirety of the previous night led him to a decision. A friendship first. Fate to decide the rest. 

 

It was perhaps meant to be that Yuri would be diagnosed with such a condition.

 

But Otabek didn’t mind in the least. Being able to stand by Yuri was more than Otabek could’ve asked for.

 

"At that time, I was in my first year in the junior division. But I couldn't keep up with the Russian junior skaters, so I was put in the novice class. That's where I met you. Yuri Plisetsky had the unforgettable eyes of a soldier."

 

"A soldier? Me?" 

 

_Yuri, you're more worthy of that title than any general, any sergeant, any corporal._

 

"I had just moved my home rink from Moscow to St. Petersburg. I was desperate. I'd decided that I wouldn't complain until I was good enough." Yuri mused.

 

"After that camp, I moved around to train, from Russia to the US and then to Canada. I only managed to return to my home rink in Almaty last year. Now, more than ever, I want to win the championship for Kazakhstan." 

 

"Otabek, why did you talk to me? I'm a rival, aren't I?" 

 

_Yuri Plisetsky, you’re my soulmate and I have looked up to you since I was 14, and you are the force that spurs me to survive, to stay alive. You are the very motivation that keeps me going, I’ve always.._

"I've always thought we were alike. That's all.”

 

_Otabek Altin, you are a wimp._

 

“Are you going to become friends with me or not?" It was Otabek’s last desperate plea for Yuri to never walk out of his life again.

 

There was a familiar silence that veiled the air.

 

Yuri’s eyes shimmered, a new perspective of the soldier that Otabek had never witnessed before. Otabek had nothing but even more respect for his acquaintance.

 

A soldier could never win just by defending himself, the refusal to let down his walls, would only lead to a certain death. Only the intelligent knew when to allow alliances to be forged, relying on their instincts to appoint those they could trust to have their backs. Otabek wanted to be his comrade.

 

If juxtaposed with the aloof, hostile, offensive masquerade that Otabek had encountered only the night before, he knew that there was a chance.

 

_Yuri, you know you can trust me._

\------ 

"Whoa, really?" Yuri leant forward, eyes glistening. 

 

"Yes, I do have a cat back in Kazakhstan. His name is Jet." 

 

"I have a cat too! I call it Frank because it's always grumpy. I have no idea how that makes sense but Frank seems like a grumpy name." Yuri chuckled. 

 

Otabek's could listen to Yuri all day. He was beaming like an idiot, head nestling in his right palm. 

 

He had subconsciously formed that habit of adopting that pose when he stared at Yuri, mostly on the television just a few months ago. Now that Yuri was sitting across him, in a café talking about their cats, Otabek couldn't believe it either. 

 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" 

 

_Shit._

 

"Nothing. It's just that uh.." 

 

The Christmas bells hanging by the door rang, abruptly cutting Otabek's words short. A familiar Japanese skater appeared.

 

"Yurio!" Yuuri flailed his arms.

 

"HUH? Katsudon, what the heck are you doing here?" Yuri sneered. 

 

"Mari-chan and Minako-senpai wanted to ask all of us to gather for dinner!" 

 

"Hello you two, Otabek, would you want to join us?" Viktor walked up to their table, slinging his arms around Yuuri. 

 

Yuri's eyes met Otabek's. There was incoherent murmuring. "Otabek, please don't leave me alone with these two..." 

 

"Sure." Otabek agreed, nodding. 

 

Yuri smirked and gave a thumbs up.

"Thanks." 

 ------ 

"Yuri, get some rest, I'll see you tomorrow."

 

"Otabek, you know you didn't have to walk me all the way to my room right?" 

 

"Friends care for each other and I care for your safety."

 

"Otabek, your room is just diagonally from mine." 

 

"Still. Alright, all the best for your Short Programme tomorrow. Goodnight." 

 

Yuri smirked and gave a thumbs-up, a gesture that belonged to the two of them. "You too, Beka." 

 

Otabek mirrored Yuri's moves, turning around and placing his hand on the cold handle to his door. 

 

_Did he just call me Beka?_

Otabek's cheeks heated up, a shade of crimson so deep he wished Yuri would never see. 


	7. A Sad Smile

"A pity you missed the podium, aye?" Viktor strode up beside Otabek. 

 

"I tried my best, and I'm satisfied. No matter how the outcome may be." 

 

"I'm glad. Yurio seems to have warmed up to you quite a bit, hasn't he? Able to make the Ice Tiger of Russia open up to you, you're really something." Viktor teased. 

 

"He's a good friend." Otabek smiled. 

 

"Say, have you met your soulmate yet?" Viktor rested his head on the rinkside, staring at his fiancé on the podium. 

 

"W..What? Of course not, I'm only 19." Otabek's eyes were on the ground, rubbing his neck, he refused to look at the five-time world champion. 

 

"You can't deceive me. I saw the way you look at Yurio. You know about Yurio's condition, right?" 

 

"Yeah." 

 

"You know he won't know unless you tell him, don't you?" 

 

"I don't think I want to. Maybe it's destined that he can't see his soulmate, but that doesn't matter anyway. I just don't want things to change between us. I'm fine with the way things are, as long as I can stay with him, I'm happy." 

 

"It's an indescribable feeling with Yuuri. I just know that I'll never settle with just being his coach, or his friend. I know I want to spend my life with him. He is my soulmate, after all. Just like Yurio is yours." 

 

Otabek gave Viktor a sad smile. Both of them stared onwards, at their winners on the podium. 


	8. I Will Learn to Love You

"Beka, can I ask you something?" 

 

A layer of still air hung over the pair, and Otabek swore he would've suffocated. 

 

"Yeah sure."

 

"Have you um, met your soulmate yet?" 

 

Otabek's eyes widened, taken aback by the sudden question. He was tossed into a time machine, back to the ceremony yesterday, when Viktor had asked him the exact same question. 

 

"No I haven't. Why?" He lied through his teeth, and there was a pang of guilt that made him slightly dizzy. 

 

His heart started to pound, a familiar sensation. The same feeling he got when they were announcing his skating score at the kiss and cry. In the pit of his stomach there was an uneasiness brewing. 

 

"Oh. Because Viktor said something to me yesterday that I thought made some sense although usually he's full of shit. Yeah. So, truth is I have a condition that I can't actually see multiple colors, including the color of my soulmate's eyes, and even when I meet my soulmate, it doesn't appear." 

 

"Yeah I know." Otabek's eyes widened, realizing what he had said. "Wait, I mean.. I understand." 

 

"So yeah, what Viktor said was that, maybe that there was a reason why I have this condition. I'm not bounded by my eyes and it's restrictions of who I should love, and my heart can feel for itself. He calls it a blessing in disguise or something. It sounds like some cheesy shit to me and it was kinda gross seeing his mouth move but somehow it kinda made some sense." 

 

"Mm." The sick feeling in his gut continued to grow. 

 

"I know this is bullshit since I'm only fifteen. But like I don't know, when I first started skating Agape I kept telling myself I was skating for my grandpa. But I think there was something, or someone who was missing. Only two days ago I realized, there was someone else I thought of when skating that routine for. How that person made it possible  for me to beat Viktor's record.

 

Otabek's breath hitched. 

 

"I don't need my shitty eyes to tell me who to feel for."

 

Yuri's face flushed as he squeezed his eyes shut, Otabek flinched by his sudden movement.

 

"Otabek. Even though you may not be my soulmate, I... I will learn to love you." 

 

Otabek's hand balled into a fist, digging into the itchy fabric of the couch. He grimaced, a habit he thought he had gotten rid of. 

 

"Truth is, Yuri.. I.." Otabek stopped himself in time. 

 

_I already love you, Yuri._

_But if I admit it now, you would know that  I was lying to you from the start._

_I don't want to lose you._

"Yuri, I'm sorry. It's just that I already have a soulmate already and they're somewhere out there, I'm sorry I can't reciprocate the feelings, it's just that.." 

 

"I understand." Even in sadness he was beautiful. 

 

Otabek could hear his own heart splitting. 

 

"I'm just... I'm so sorry. Are.. we still good?"

 

"Yeah, we are. Let's just pretend today didn't happen, shall we? What Viktor said was bullshit, I won't listen to him again." 

 

"Yeah." 

 

Yuri gave a thumbs-up, forcing a small smile,  Otabek swore he saw tears welling up in those eyes that he loved so much. 

 

What happened next was a blur. 

 

Yuri's breath hitched, his eyes wide open as Otabek rested his hand on Yuri's cheek, caressing it slightly. Every tear that dared to escape the rims of his eyes, Otabek wiped every one of them off Yuri's soft skin. 

 

He planted a kiss on Yuri's forehead. He stroked Yuri's blonde hair. He realized how his hair was as soft as cat fur, with the faint scent of lavender shampoo, the one that Yuri loved. 

 

_Otabek, you have to let go._

 

When Otabek pulled away, he could see it.

 

Yuri's eyes. 

 

They weren't just of a soldier's anymore. 

 

It was a concoction. Confusion, disappointment, sadness, happiness, every human emotion all amalgamating into emerald green eyes. 

 

"Yuri, listen to me." 

 

Yuri nodded slowly, heaving. 

 

"Promise me. Even if we aren't soulmates, promise me you'll stay with me. I can't lose you." 

 

"O..okay." 

 

Otabek pulled Yuri into a hug, burrowing his head into the crook of Yuri's neck. 

 

It was an awkward position. They were both on a cramped sofa in Yuri's hotel room, barely enough for them to stretch their legs. Yuri was being pulled in Otabek's embrace, a slight strain on his right side. Otabek was kneeling. 

 

The air-conditioner buzzed, a failed buffer for the silence that ensued. 

 

Otabek took in one last whiff of Yuri's jacket, laced with his fragrance. 

 

"I should be going back now." 

 

"You're going back tomorrow morning right?" 

 

"Yeah, back to Almaty." 

 

"I see. I'll guess I'll see you when I see you?"

 

"Yeah." 

 

Otabek pulled Yuri into one last embrace. 

 

"Bye Yuri." 

 

Otabek turned towards the door, taking large strides, dying to return to the comfort of his bed. Before he could break down in front of Yuri. 

 

"I'll... I'll see you again!" Yuri shouted. 

 

Otabek's nose soured as he strained a smile, giving a thumbs-up. 

 

His tears rolled down all at once as he shut the door behind him. Biting the back of his hand, Otabek was careful not to let Yuri hear him cry. 

 


	9. 99%

**YURI'S POV**

The incessant clinking of ceramic plates and metallic cutlery irked Yuri. He stabbed a particular prawn floating around in his soup with his fork, conveniently naming it after his best friend. 

 

"Stupid Otabek. Stupid Otabek." Yuri muttered under his breath.

 

"Is the food not to your liking, Yurio?" Yuuri noticed the young skater's lack of appetite. 

 

Yuri slumped his head on the table, rubbing his chin on the tablecloth. 

 

"Ugh." 

 

"Yuri, you're in Uma, the best restaurant in all of Barcelona." Viktor chuckled.

 

"This 'Love Soup' thing you recommended sucks, I'm never listening to you again." 

 

"Yurio, nothing's wrong with the soup. How did it go yesterday?" Viktor leant forward, resting his head on his right hand. 

 

"Viktor don't do that please." Yuri groaned. 

 

"What did what go yesterday?" Yuuri looked up from his food, still munching on his smoked eel. 

 

"Our little Russian fairy is in love." 

 

"I am not!" 

 

"Otabek?" Yuuri raised an eyebrow.

 

"Ugh." Yuri slammed his head on the table again. 

 

"Guessed as much. Viktor, Yurio's lucky he found his soulmate so early in life, you shouldn't tease him." 

 

"No, he isn't my soulmate." 

 

"Wait, what? He isn't? I always thought he was, I mean, the way he looks at you and stuff..."

 

"The same way you look at me aye, Yuuri?" Viktor lifted Yuuri's chin. 

 

Yuuri's face flushed as he looked away, adjusting his glasses. "Yeah." 

 

"Yuuri, you're so cuuuuuuute." Viktor launched himself on Yuuri, shaking him as he clung on. "Viktor, get off me!" Yuuri chuckled. 

 

"Both of you are disgusting." 

 

"But Yurio, are you sure he isn't your soulmate? What did Otabek say?" Yuuri probed.

 

"That's exactly what he said, that I'm not his soulmate." 

 

"And you believed him?" Viktor raised an eyebrow. 

 

"He's my best friend, of course I trust him." Yuri sunk back in his seat, crossing his legs. 

 

"Yurio, in all honesty, I have no idea what he said to you, but even a blind man can be 99% sure that he's your soulmate. The way you two interact and stuff, it's not just a best friend thing." 

 

"Katsudon, it's that 1%, Otabek said so himself." 

 

"Maybe he had his reasons for hiding the truth from you?" 

 

"He has no reason to lie to me, you know?" 

 

"I'm not so sure about that.." Yuuri went quiet. 

 

"Whatever, let's just finish our food and go, we have a flight to catch. Katsudon, you're coming with us to Russia right?" 

 

Yuuri glanced at Viktor, who winked at his fiancé. Yuuri's cheeks erupted into flames within an instant. 

 

"Ye.. Yeah. Since I'm gonna be moving in with Viktor, after we settle down we can travel to Hasetsu to plan for our wedding."

 

"Yes, my Yuuri is moving in with me." Viktor wrapped his arms around his neck, swaying him. "Yes I am, Viktor, now get off me, people are staring." Yuuri attempted to pry Viktor off him, although futile. "No, I'm never going to let you go Yuuuuuri, I love youuuu!"

 

"Finish your food, dumbasses!" 


	10. Home Sweet Home

"Whose great idea was it to get married on an ICE RINK? Both of you are idiots." Yurio snarled.

 

"Correction, we will have our wedding on normal ground where our guests who can't skate won't have to suffer, there will be a dance floor on ice at the after party. Optional for non skaters." 

 

"Yeah... my parents and Mari-chan can't skate.. I don't think Minako-senpai can either." Yuuri smiled sheepishly.

 

"Still, it's really dumb." 

 

"We're inviting Otabek for our wedding y'know." Viktor wriggled his eyebrows. 

 

Yuri bit his lip, struggling to hide his grin. "Whatever. I'm gonna get soda." 

 

"Viktor. Your apartment is really really nice." Yuuri mused, looking around. 

 

It was true. Viktor and Yuuri were lazing across each other on the same cerulean sofa. Makkachin was falling asleep on Yuuri's chest, Yuuri stroking him softly, humming a small tune. 

 

Viktor had made the decision to buy two more matching armchairs and another sofa. It wasn't unnecessary as Yuuri had chided.  Now that Yuuri was living with him, Minako-senpai and the rest of Yuuri's family would visit them every now and then. 

 

Yuri would pop by the most often on his rest days, and Yuuri and Viktor even saved a room specially for him, with pictures of felines strung all over the walls and on the bed, in hopes to tease the 15 year-old. Surprisingly, not a word of complaint. 

 

Viktor had never forgotten to remind Yuuri how fortunate he was to meet him. 

 

On the day of their housewarming party, Yuuri was stranded outside, his arms brimming with groceries, celery and radishes protruding in awkward angles out of the paper bags, threatening to rip at any given moment. 

 

But after he rang the doorbell, all he could hear was loud, unrestrained blubbering from the other side of the wooden door. He panicked, fumbling with his keys.

 

There was Viktor, a wet heap on the ground, tears and mucus accruing into a small puddle on the floor. Yuuri hurled his groceries aside.

 

"What happened, Viktor?" Yuuri kneeled, placing a hand on his fiancé's back. 

 

 "Yuuri... I've never heard the doorbell ring before." 

 

It was almost nostalgia, the feeling of solitude all too familiar.

 

Celestino had used to tell his students how they were alone on the battlefield. 

 

It was meant to be empowerment, he intended for it to inspire his students, that they had the power to decide their own fate, that no one could affect them or bring them down once the music started. 

 

The ice was his life, he lived for life on the ice, possibly the meaning of his existence. To Yuuri, Celestino's words implied that his life was meant to be interlaced with isolation. 

 

There was love encompassing him, the people around him would've willingly died for him in a heartbeat. 

 

Denial.

 

_I don't deserve this._

But as Viktor opens his arms after every skate, time and time again, Viktor never ceased to evince that Yuuri was worth  it. And for that, Yuuri couldn't imagine life without Viktor, he gave his life meaning. Something else to live for. 

 

Someone else on the ice with him. 

 

"Viktor..." Yuuri chuckled as Viktor continued to bawl, almost melodramatically. 

 

"There there, my love. I'll never let you be alone again." Yuuri cradled Viktor in his arms, gently rocking him. Rubbing the nape of his neck, Yuuri marveled at how the five-time champion could seem so vulnerable in his embrace. 

 

"Yuuri, I love you." Viktor tugged on Yuuri's shirt, tightening his grip. Viktor's face tensed yet again, sobbing quietly. 

 

"I love you too, more than you can ever imagine." 

 

They wished they could stay there forever. 

_____

 

"Katsudon, what the hell are you doing?"

 

Yuuri was laying on the ground, his lifeless body sprawled on the floor outside of Viktor's apartment. 

 

"OI KATSUDON, ARE YOU OKAY?" 

 

"Yuuri, ring it again please!" Viktor's muffled voice bellowed from the apartment. 

 

"Katsudon, wake up, what's happening?" The flustered fifteen-year-old was shaking, unsure of what to do. With trembling hands, he placed a finger near Yuuri's nostrils. 

 

"He's alive." Yuri heaved. 

 

"OI VIKTOR, YOUR FIANCÉ JUST PASSED OUT OUTSIDE OF YOUR APARTMENT." 

 

"Hello Yurio! Why are you here?" Viktor beamed, swinging the door open. 

 

"IT'S YOUR GODDAMN HOUSEWARMING PARTY REMEMBER?" Yuri rolled his eyes.

 

"Of... of course!" 

 

"You forgot, didn't you?" 

\-----

 

"Viktor?" The wet towel on Yuuri's head slipped off. 

 

"Oi, Katsudon, you're awake. You passed out outside the apartment, what happened?" 

 

"Viktor told me to ring the doorbell." 

 

"You don't pass out from ringing the doorbell, you idiot." 

 

"For about an hour or so, I think.." 

 

"I am not going to question why you would do that, because I'm not the one who's gonna move into this stupid house filled with stupid people. Now get up, the party's starting. They're going to arrive any moment."

 

Yuuri gasped. 

 

"Yurio.. you did all this?"

 

Bundles of purple and blue balloons were affixed to every corner of the living room. Colorful streamers were suspended, strewn across the ceiling. A large banner arched across the decorations, a small Yuuri and Viktor drawn on the bottom of the banner in their exhibition costumes. 

 

"Home Sweet Home." Yuuri breathed. 

 

"Yeah I couldn't think of anything better to write on the banner so there's that." 

 

"Yurio, it's beautiful. You're so talented at this, I never knew." 

 

"Shut up, Katsudon. I have more talents than just skating." Yuri stifled a laugh. 

 

"Thank you, Yurio."

 

"Don't overthink it. Get more rest if you need to." 

\-----

 

"Hello Auntie, Uncle! Welcome to our home. How was the flight from Hasetsu?" Viktor greeted. 

 

"Aw, Viktor, it was fine. But no need to call us that anymore, just Mom and Dad will be fine." Hiroko winked, patting Viktor's shoulder. 

 

"Yeah, Mom and Dad will be fine, bring it in, son." Toshiya opened his arms.

 

Viktor had lost count of how many times he had cried that day. But they were happy tears, not the kind that were used to put him to sleep every single night. 

 

He had reminisced how he had used to reach out at no one in particular, on the other side of the king sized bed. 

 

He had a nightmare a few nights back, when they had just moved in. 

 

In that slumber, Yuuri never existed. 

 

He was only a vision, a mere fantasy, the past year of his life existed in a dream that Viktor would wake up from one day. 

 

Viktor wasn't strong enough to hold on. The love of his life, went spiraling into a black hole that consumed Viktor of everything, his life and his love. 

 

"Yuuri!" Viktor reached out in futility. The golden ring on his right hand vanished into smoke as his fiancé perished into the depths, gone forever. 

 

"Viktor, Viktor. Wake up." A small nudge sent Viktor's eyes springing wide open. 

 

"Yuuri!" Viktor screeched, Makkachin jolted awake, craning its neck at the sudden cry.

 

"Oh my gosh, Yuuri, you're still here. I.. I thought you've.." Viktor shuddering at the recollection of the nightmare just moments ago. 

 

"Viktor, Viktor. It's only a dream."

 

"But Yuuri, it felt so so real." 

 

"It wasn't, and it won't be. Hey, look at me, alright?" He placed a hand on Viktor's cheek. 

 

"I, Yuuri Katsuki, promise that I won't ever leave you, If death should do us part, I will die with you."

 

"Hey Yuuri? We aren't getting married yet, you know, still a few months more." Viktor smirked. 

\-----

 

"Here's your gift, take it." Yuri shoved a small wrapped box in Yuuri's arms. 

 

There was a pink ribbon encasing the box, the green wrapping paper slightly flawed, the sporadic creases made it indisputable. Yurio had taken the time to wrap it himself. 

 

"Yurio... thank you so much." 

 

"Don't overthink it, it's nothing much." He shrugged.

 

Viktor seized the gift from Yuuri's possession, carefully peeling off the intricate exterior. 

 

"A cactus? Didn't know you were into such meaningful things Yurio, how sweet of you." Viktor cooed, studying the cactus from multiple angles. 

 

"Tch. It would complete the house anyway." 

 

"WAIT." Viktor stopped short, raising a curt hand. 

 

There was tension. 

 

"This.. this kinda looks like a human being." Viktor furrowed his eyebrows, "someone I know.." Viktor's narrowed eyes landed on Yuri. 

 

Viktor lifted the plant such that it blanketed his field of vision. He shuffled his gaze back and forth, between Yuri and the cactus. He gasped, sprinting towards one of the rooms. 

 

"What the heck is he doing." 

 

Yuuri shrugged. 

 

"PERFECTO!" Viktor reappeared, raising the cactus up high, balancing the pot on two fingers. 

 

"Are those.. paper cat ears?" Yuuri narrowed his eyes. 

 

"Doesn't it look like Yurio? I'm naming this plant Yurio!" Viktor beamed, evidently proud of his discovery. 

 

"Viktor.. stop it.. He's gonna be angry..." 

 

"WHAT THE ACTUAL SHIT VIKTOR IM TELLING YOU THIS MAY BE A HOUSEWARMING PARTY BUT IT'LL BE FUCKING WARM FOR YOU WHEN I BURN YOUR HOUSE DOWN YOU ASSHOLE!" 


	11. Yuri(o) the Cactus

/ A week ago / 

 

**OTABEK'S POV**

**8:03 P.M.**

**yuri-plisetsky:**

hey, uh.. Otabek... haven't talked to you in a while. 

 

**8:34 P.M.**

**otabek-altin:**

how have you been?

**8:36 P.M.**

**yuri-plisetsky:**

still fine i guess, how's things been in Kazakhstan?

 

**otabek-altin:**

it's been great, thanks for asking, Yura.

 

**8:37 P.M.**

**yuri-plisetsky:**

so like I wanted to ask u for some advice

 

**yuri-plisetsky:**

the dumbasses have a housewarming party next week and like idk what will be a good gift ???? 

 

**yuri-plisetsky:**

better if it could accurately express their stupidy 

 

**yuri-plisetsky:**

*stupidity 

 

**8:40P.M**

**otabek-altin:**

hmm 

 

**otabek-altin:**

do you have anything in mind

 

**8:41 P.M.**

**yuri-plisetsky:**

not rly that's why i'm asking u rn 

 

**otabek-altin:**

hmm 

 

**otabek-altin:**

what kinda message do you want to tell them 

 

**8:42 P.M.**

**otabek-altin:**

what do you want to wish them and stuff 

 

**yuri-plisetsky:**

idk like 'ure dumb but here's a gift anyw i hope you'll be happy and shit in ur new house and keep a place for me so i can crash anytime'

 

**8:50 P.M**

**otabek-altin:**

yura... 

 

**yuri-plisetsky:**

ok fine something meaningful would do but not too cheesy tho

 

**8:51 P.M.**

**otabek-altin:**

a plant? 

 

**yuri-plisetsky:**

what why tho 

 

**otabek-altin:**

like plants usually have a lot of meaning and something they can actually take care of and grow it, i think it'll be great, they do say a house is only complete with plants right 

 

**8:52 P.M.**

**yuri-plisetsky:**

is there even such a saying 

 

**yuri-plisetsky:**

ok fine 

 **yuri-plisetsky:** a plant it shall be since i can't think of anything better

 

**8:53 P.M.**

**otabek-altin:**

a cactus?? maybe 

 

**yuri-plisetsky:**

omg actually ok bc it doesn't die that easily and i won't hear viktor complaining how the plant i gave them died so soon 

 

**otabek-altin:**

you really do know them well, don't yoy 

 

**8:54 P.M.**

**yuri-plisetsky:**

shUT IT!!!! nO i don't i don't like them in the least

 

 **otabek-altin** :

yura you're racking your brains over what to give them as a housewarming present

 

**otabek-altin:**

you do care about them, don't you 

 

**yuri-plisetsky:**

ok fine. a bit 

 

**9:50 P.M.**

**yuri-plisetsky:**

i'm sleepy goodnight 

 

**otabek-altin:**

sure. goodnight yura **.**

 

**yuri-plisetsky:**

gonna go cactus shopping tomorrow so i'll be asking u for help, will u be free tomorrow to text?!

 

**9:51 P.M.**

**otabek-altin:**

yeah i will be, don't worry 

 

**yuri-plisetsky:**

okay goodnight beka, sleep tight 

\-------

**10:42 A.M.**

**yuri-plisetsky:** can you skype now? 

 **otabek-altin:** sure i'm taking a break now 

***Call connected***

"Hi Otabek so like here's the orchard." Yuri flipped the camera and panned the surroundings.

 

"Looks good, have you found any cacti that you like?" 

 

"Yeah these few that I picked out earlier." Yuri the camera was focused on a table with several cacti. "Beka, how do these look?" 

 

"Hmm let me see. Hold still for a while." 

 

Otabek took a double take.

 

"Yura, can you focus on the second one from the right." 

 

"Sure." 

 

The videocam zoomed in. 

 

"Give me a second, Yura." 

 

Otabek put his phone facing down, covering the speaker with a hand. 

 

His laughter exploded, rupturing through the empty ice rink. 

Otabek, in efforts to restraint his gaffawing, teared up. The imagery of the peculiar cactus resurfaced. The cactus was indeed oddly shaped, the two 'limbs' looked they were assuming a fighting stance. The top of the cactus was round, resembling a human head with short hair. 

 

Otabek heaved, taking deep breaths, the occasional giggle escaping. 

 

"Yura, I'm back." Otabek covered his mouth. 

 

"So which one?" 

 

"That one I asked you to zoom in on." Otabek muffled the speaker as another fit of laughter came. 

 

"Woah really? Okay. Thanks Beka."

 

"Glad I could... pfft... help." 

 

"Beka are you sick?" 

 

"No... not at all. I'm fine don't worry." 

 

"If you say so, talk to you later. Thanks again." 

 

"Sure, bye Yura." 

 

The sound of the disconnected Skype call beckoned the obnoxious snorting that reverberated through the ice rink once again. 

 

It was the first time Otabek had chuckled so heartily in his life. 

 

_Otabek Altin, you're 19 years old, get a grip._

And then he lost it again.

 

/ CURRENT TIME / 

 

**YURI'S POV**

**6:56 P.M.**

**yuri-plisetsky: BEKA CAN I SKYPE YOU RIGHT NOW**

**otabek-altin: that was sudden but sure**

***Call connected***

"BEKA YOU KNOW WHAT THAT RUSSIAN ASSHOLE SAID." Yuri was seething, the front camera shaking a bit too much.

 

"Woah Yura, calm down." 

 

"VIKTOR SAID THE CACTUS LOOKED LIKE ME WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH HIM? WAIT GIVE ME A MOMENT."

 

The front camera was flipped, and Otabek took time to adjust to the new surroundings. It was Viktor's home, undoubtedly. But on the kitchen counter.. 

 

"LOOK AT WHAT HE DID. HE ADDED CAT EARS AND NAMED THE CACTUS YURIO." 

 

The conversation a week ago was back to haunt him, and so were the uncontrollable fits of laughter. 

 

Throughout the course of that week Otabek found him grinning at himself a bit too much, even earning a few weird stares from passers-by. 

 

He had even requested a picture of the cactus and set it as his lockscreen, a convenient source of amusement in troubled times. 

 

"Yura, you definitely do not look like a cactus with cat ears, don't worry." Otabek sniggered. 

 

"DO YOU EVEN SEE THIS SHIT I SWEAR I HATE VIKTOR IM NEVER COMING TO THEIR HOUSE AGAIN I SWE-" 

 

Otabek couldn't hear the rest. 

 

There was nothing to hear. Yuri had stopped short on his last word.

 

"Beka..." 

 

Otabek was giggling. The sound just like the tinkle of little bells. A child. A child's laugh. Yuri was enthralled by this pristine version of his best friend. Looking away was an impossible task. 

 

He laughed so hard tears welled up in his eyes. They flowed in small streams, contouring his chiseled cheekbones. Yuri's gaze trailed every single tear as Otabek wiped them off. 

 

He wished he was right there beside him, to slap him playfully and kiss those tears away, and laugh until they had stitches. Yuri stroked Otabek's face on his phone screen with his thumb, a sad smile plastered on. 

 

_Otabek, I miss you._

 

A teardrop splattered on Yuri's illuminated screen, snapping him out of his trance. Then another one, and another. 

 

He realized that Otabek had gone silent. 

 

"Fuck I said that out loud didn't I." Yuri cursed, swabbing the tears from his eyes with a sleeve.

 

"Said what out loud?" 

 

"Nothing." Yuri looked away. "Just that you look really cute laughing like that, like in a child kinda way, nothing more." 

 

"Thanks. That's the hardest I've laughed since forever, thanks for making me laugh Yura." 

 

"It was Viktor who did all the work. You're coming for their wedding right? You can thank him then or something." Yuri rolled his eyes. 

 

"Yeah, I'll be there for their wedding, I can see you then." 

 

"Yeah.. you will see me there." 

 

"I missed you over the last few months, see you soon." 

 

A familiar pang of warmth gripped the pit of his stomach.

 

“Yeah. Okay. Bye.” Yuri hung up immediately.

 

_He misses me._

Yuri’s face warmed up, an accustomed sensation when it came to Otabek. He rubbed his cheeks.

 

_Stop blushing stop blushing stop blushing._

“Eh? Yurio, what are you doing? Your face’s all red.”

 

“Shut it, Katsudon!”


	12. Green

"Rock, papers, scissors!" 

 

"YEEEEEESSSSSSSS!" Viktor's victory cry ruptured through the living room. 

 

"I have literally never ever seen anyone so so so stupid." 

 

Yuuri kneeled on the floor in defeat, staring at the fist he had used, slamming it on the sofa Yuri was lazing on. 

 

"OI KATSUDON, DON'T SCARE ME." 

 

"Guess you'll have to walk down the aisle next week, my dearest Yuuri." Viktor sent a wink and a flying kiss his fiancé's way. 

 

Yuuri rose slowly, steadying himself with the sofa beside him, wobbling slightly. 

 

"No.... I demand a rematch! 3 times... the loser walks down the aisle!" Yuuri pointed a finger at Viktor, his determined voice confident. "I won't lose this time!" 

 

\-----

 

// 3 losses later and an existential crisis later //

 

"Katsudon, you really suck at rock, papers, scissors, don't you?" 

 

"Yeah. I think I do." Yuuri mumbled, burying his face into a pillow, outwardly groaning.

 

"I WON I WON I WON." Viktor blew a raspberry. 

 

"I feel like the adult in this house sometimes." Yuri muttered, shaking his head at the pair. 

 

"There are ten thousand and one ways to PROPERLY plan your wedding and you use rock paper scissors? You two really are a match made in heaven." 

 

"Yurio, you think so?" Viktor's eyes glistened. 

 

"No, that's not what I mea-" Yuri screeched as Viktor opened his arms, his signature heart mouth spreading across his face. 

 

"STOP IT! YOU FUCKTARD WHY DO YOU DO THE SAME THING AS KATSUDON? WHAT THE FUCK STOP CHASING ME THE BOTH OF YOU ARE CREEPY AS HELL!"

 

"COME HERE MY SON!" Viktor was unrelenting, in hot pursuit while making kissing sounds, which further triggered Yuri. 

 

"STOP IT VIKTOR NIKIFOROV I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU!" 

 

"COME HERE THEN!" Viktor accentuated his smooching, sending shivers down Yuri's spine. 

 

"YOU ARE FUCKING DISGUSTING!" 

 

\-----

 

"There are seven billion people in this world, why me?" Yuri lamented at his fate, crinkling his nose in disgust at basket of rose petals. "Guys, I could be your best man or something. Why the flower boy?"

 

"You'll have to give a speech at the wedding if you're the best man, which Phichit volunteered to be. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want that. But we still want you to be an important part of our wedding, so.." Yuuri trailed off. 

 

"The flower boy." 

 

"Affirmative." 

 

"Whatever. All I have to do is throw some dead flowers, isn't that bad. I'll do it." 

 

"And you'll have to wear," Yuuri pulled something from behind him. "this." he smiled.

 

"No, Katsudon. That's too far." Yuri shook his head ferociously, flailing his hands in disagreement. "No way I'm wearing... that." 

 

Yuri cringed slightly at the flower crown, brushing a wary finger against the silky petals. 

 

Fresh scarlet and blush pink roses matching those in the basket alternated around a thin green wire, the circumference definitely Yuri's size. (Viktor had measured Yuri's head size while he was asleep and custom ordered a crown his size.) 

 

"You'll look beautiful in it, Yurio. Really." 

 

Yuri tenderly picked up the flower crown with his fingers, charily perusing every single flower.

 

He noticed that no two roses were the same, some petals bent in weird ways, some creased, some were flawless.

 

But each rose was beautiful in its own right. Together, had orchestrated, complementing, augmenting the radiance of each other. They didn't stop until they formed the winsome wreath.

 

_Otabek._

 

_You're just like roses to me._

 

_We could be the roses of the same flower crown._

_We could be something beautiful._

 

"I'll wear it, Katsudon." 

 

"Thanks. I appreciate it, Yurio."

 

"No sweat. You and Viktor…you two form a pretty flower crown, okay?" 

 

"What?"

 

"Mmm." Yuri smiled and shook his head. "Nothing."

 

"Katsudon, just promise me you'll be happy together." 

 

\----

 

_Heart beats fast, colors and promises._

 

Yuri sauntered down the red carpet. There was no haste in his gait. 

_How to be brave? How can I love when I'm afraid, to fall._

Yuri's hand dipped into the basket, fingers rubbing against the delicate petals, slightly sticky. 

 

_But watching you stand alone._

He cast them upwards. 

 

_All of my doubt,_

 

The petals cascaded onto the red carpet, a faint curtain formed. 

 

_Suddenly goes away somehow._

 

Yuri's lips quivered, his nose souring. His vision started to blur. 

 

_One step closer._

Applause ensued, welcoming Yuuri and Toshiya as they entered the wedding hall. 

 

Yuri squeezed his eyes shut. Biting his lip, he sniffed and he looked straight ahead, adjusting his back.

 

Viktor was tearing up, his glistening tears forming dark patches his grey suit, as he watched his fiancé march down the aisle. Yuuri wore the same expression, clinging on tighter to his father with each approaching step. 

 

They were petrified for the future, and what it entailed for them. The fight to clamber their way out of the solitude they once despaired in, left battle scars.

 

But they were a flower crown. A very imperfect one, plenty of blemishes. But it was exactly those flaws, that intrigue. How two damaged people could fix each other so effortlessly, how they could make a flower crown so alluring it could blind. They were bound together, their fates intertwined until the day they die.

 

With each other, Yuri knew they wouldn't be alone anymore. 

 

He wanted that for them more than anything in the world. 

 

A small smile crept onto his face as he reached for the petals again. 

\----

“Do you, Yuuri Katsuki, take Viktor Nikiforov, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

 

He breathed, trembling slightly.

 

“I do.” His voice croaked.

 

“Do you, Viktor Nikiforov, take Yuuri Katsuki, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

 

“I do.” Viktor gazed at his husband, wiping his tears off with a thumb.

 

“Don’t cry, Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri sniffled, taking a deep breath, a grin finding it’s way on his face once again. “Mm.”

 

“We have come to the point of the ceremony where the grooms will exchange their vows.” The priest announced.

 

Yuuri took over the microphone.

 

“So.. um..” Yuuri fumbled with his pocket, pulling out a sheet of paper hurriedly. “So, yeah.. um. Oh.. it’s upside down.. haha..” 

 

Viktor grabbed his arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Yuuri heaved, calming down.

 

“I, Yuuri Katsuki, promise that I will take care of you, Viktor Nikiforov, for the rest of my life. Never have I felt that I was loved before I met you, you made me realize that love was all around me. You are the force that keeps me going, and I can never imagine life without you with me. When I open up, you meet me where I am. And for that, I cannot be more grateful that you exist, and that I thank all my lucky stars I will be able to call you mine after today. You are my soulmate and I will try, every single day, to make you feel like you are treasured, and valued. For you are the most precious thing in the world, and I never want to see you unhappy. If I can be the one who makes you happy, I will devote the rest of my life to you. I love you, Viktor Nikiforov, for now and forever.”

 

“I, Viktor Nikiforov, promise that I will give you, Yuuri Katsuki, all the happiness you deserve, and even more. I can only hope that you will be willing to celebrate our victories, and mourn our losses together. But I know for a fact that you will, as I have faith that you love me as much as I love you. The past twenty-seven years of my life have been hollow and empty, I have disregarded life and love. But only with you I realize that I am capable of these, for you have given me the life and love I now have. I will hold on to these as long as I can, and I will hold on to you. I can only request for you to stay close to me, and never leave, for I am afraid of losing you. I love you more than anything in the world, Yuuri Nikiforov.”

 

Applause. Soft sobs could be heard from the audience, their love touching the hearts of many.

 

“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you, married. The grooms may now kiss.”

Viktor brought Yuuri’s right hand to his lips, kissing the golden ring that bonded their souls together. A loving gaze was shared between the two, enough to prove to anyone that true love does exist.

Yuuri cupped Viktor’s face with his left hand, pulling in as their lips touched. Yuri looked away, hiding his face in his sleeve, letting his tears flow freely as he sobbed.

 

They pulled away. Their hands were interlocked, foreheads touching, smiling so brightly even the sun would’ve paled in comparison to their radiance. They hugged, squeezing each other tightly, wishing they would never need to let go.

 

Yuri wailed at the sight of the newlyweds, his heart swelling with pride. A tap on his shoulder.

 

“I’m here if you need a shoulder to cry on.”

 

“Beka… they’re so happy. I'm so happy.” Yuri grabbed Otabek’s sleeve, tugging on it as he grimaced, the tears flowing incessantly. He buried his face deeper into Otabek’s shoulder, as Otabek stroked his hair. Reassuring rubs on his back encouraged Yuri to release his emotions without restraint.

 

Yuri knew Otabek would accept him for who he was, even with a tear-stained sleeve, dripping mucous and ugly crying.

 

Otabek would’ve accepted Yuri in any form, for who he was, without exception.

 

Otabek lifted Yuri’s chin, their eyes fixed. The rest of the room drowned out in the background.

 

_I have loved you for a thousand years._

 

“I’m here for you, for now, and forever. I promise.”

 

_I’ll love you for a thousand more._

\----- 

“Here goes nothing!” Yuuri shouted, garnering the attention of everyone but two.

 

Yuuri turned, back facing the crowd.

 

The bouquet was flung into the air. Several grappled, but for naught as the roses flew past their heads.

 

“The flower crown looks really pretty on you. The roses have such a nice color. Complements your blonde hair really well.” Otabek scrutinized the crown, brushing the flower petals.

 

“Tch. Darn those two who made me their flower boy.” Yuri crossed his arms.

 

“Yuri, you bawled your eyes out just now.”

 

“Beka. No I didn’t! It was more li-”

 

“Hey Otabek, Yuri, catch!” JJ shouted.

 

“Wait, wh-” The impact knocked the pair over.

 

“WATCH WHAT YOU’RE THROWING YOU IDIOTS YOU COULD KILL SOMEONE.” Yuri mumbled begrudgingly, offering a hand to Otabek.

 

Yuri’s eyes widened.

 

“Otabek… what’s… what’s that you’re holding?”

 

“Yuuri, good aim!”

 

“Oooo! Yuri-chan and Otabek are getting married next!” JJ cooed, clinging on to Isabella. “Thank goodness my beautiful fiancé and I are already marri-”

 

A fistful of rose petals hit the Canadian’s face, he sputtered as he struggled to get the petals out of his mouth.

 

Yuri was holding his basket, a triumphant smirk on his face. “Guess my flower boy job is done.”

 

“Yura.” Yuri turned around. “This is for you.”

 

The bouquet of roses.

 

“It’ll complement your crown and your basket nicely.”

 

“OI, Katsudon, Viktor, you two sure love roses a lot, don’t you?”

 

“Yes Yurio. Now, accept the bouquet, what are you waiting for?” Viktor teased.

 

Yuri looked around in disbelief. The stares of anticipation forced Yuri into a corner, a very awkward corner that he would willingly be forced into.

 

“Uh.. Thanks, Beka.” Yuri stuttered, refusing to look at Otabek.

 

Otabek smiled. 

 

“To Ice Castle Hasetsu!”

\----

“May I have this dance, Yura?” Otabek offered his hand.

 

“Uh.. are you sure?” Yuri rubbed his neck, cheeks flushing.

 

“Come on. It’ll be fun.”

 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

 

Otabek smiled, grabbing Yuri by the hand, dragging him into the ice rink.

 

On the rink, most of the guests were already enjoying their time, Yuuri and Viktor in the spotlight as they waltzed to the ballroom music.

 

Yuuri’s family were by the side of the rink, Yuuko coaching Yuuri’s parents and Minako, who had slipped and fell several times, her complaints and groaning could be heard from the other end of the rink.

 

The professional skaters who were invited were also waltzing to the music, exchanging partners every now and then.

 

But Yuri only wanted to skate with Otabek.

 

“Come on, Otabek. We can’t lose to those two. We could challenge them to a dance-off and win anytime.” There was a mischievous glint in Yuri’s eyes.

 

“I’ll try my best. For you.” Otabek gave a thumbs up.

 

Yuri smirked as he took Otabek by the hand this time, weaving through the crowd onto the circle where Yuuri and Viktor were in.

 

They nodded at each other, starting their dance on the next beat.

 

“Nicely done, Otabek, Yurio!” Viktor cheered.

 

Yuri had realized what he had meant. Yuuri had once mentioned how difficult it had been for Viktor and Yuuri to coordinate during the pair skate, they had undergone weeks of practice to be able to dance with each other properly.

 

But for Otabek and Yuri, the way they weaved, spun, swayed their bodies. But how they had elevated and lowered, moving onto the toes, relaxing through the knee and ankle, ending on a flat foot. They hadn’t danced together before, but they glided effortlessly on the ice. The way their knew each other's steps, following through without even needing to say a word. The way they were made for each other. 

 

_Just like a flower crown._

“Hey Yura." 

 

"Hmm?"

 

"I need to tell you something. I... I lied to you the other day. I'm sorry."

 

"Otabek, what's wrong?"

 

"I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this earlier, but I know how the color of my soulmate’s eyes look like.”

 

“You’ve met your soulmate already?”

 

“Yeah.” He went quiet.

 

“Oh.. I see. So, um.. What color can you see now?”

 

Otabek smiled. 

“Green.” 

\-- End --


End file.
